Defying Odds
by Tarafina
Summary: Rachel seeks out Sam with friendship in mind, hoping they mind bond over their mutual heartache.


**Title**: Defying Odds  
**Category**: Glee  
**Genre**: Friendship/Romance/Humor  
**Ship**: Rachel/Sam  
**Rating**: Teen  
**Word Count**: 5,420  
**Summary**: Rachel seeks out Sam with friendship in mind, hoping they mind bond over their mutual heartache.

**_Defying Odds_**  
-1/1-

_-A Beautiful Friendship-_

When Rachel berry made up her mind, it was with an iron clad will in accompaniment. She did nothing without thinking it through, at least when it came to matters outside of her heart. Too often, when her heart reared its desperate head, she made decisions that would fail in the long-run; that would almost certainly _hurt _her. Thankfully, however, this was not one of those times. Yes, her heart had some say in it, but it was not the _cause _of going to see him that afternoon. It was one of many reasons.

Sam Evans had a broken heart.

So too, did Rachel Berry.

How they came upon these broken hears were both similar and dissimilar. The reason behind them was what gave her the unshakeable desire to extend an olive branch. But with all of her intelligence, she knew that to approach Sam during the school day would only spark unneeded interest and a round of gossip stylized to imply that she was only going to him in hopes of making Finn jealous. True, that would make sense. It was, in deed, why she had gone to Noah a month earlier with ideas for a duet. This was not of the same variety, however. She had it in mind to seek out Sam because she felt they were kindred spirits. They may run in different circles, outside of glee at least, and they had dissimilar goals, but they did love two people who now loved each other – again.

She approached Sam's door with a firm stomping march, more to hide her frayed nerves than anything. Chin lifted and a canister of freshly baked sugar cookies in hand, she raised a fist to knock briskly on his door. She waited, noticing as the odd car drove past, paying her no heed, and then knocked a second time when she felt ample time had passed. She noticed Sam's truck in the driveway and so came to the astute assumption that he was indeed home. Football practice had long ended and so there was no reason that she could think of that he might not be home. Just as she was about to raise her fist for a third knock, the door swung open. Startled, she stared blankly at the woman peering back at her.

"Yes?" She had fluffy grey hair and wrinkles around her eyes and mouth that Rachel was almost certain were from laughing. She was much older than she would have expected of a mother, though the clear blue eyes said she was just as sharp as ever.

"Hello…" She shook off her immediate discomfort and continued forward. "My name is Rachel Berry and I happen to know Sam from glee club. I was wondering, or hoping as it is, that he might be home so that I may converse with him."

She stared back at her, her lips quirking slightly. "Converse… Is that you kids're calling it these days?"

Rachel blinked. Was she implying… She gaped, her eyes widening. "Oh, I-I mean… _No,_ that's not… I really only mean to _speak _with him. I—"

The woman laughed thickly. "You're a little wound up, aren't you?"

Shoulders slumping slightly, Rachel frowned. Usually adults liked her; she spoke well and carried herself proudly and she thought she made a very good first impression most of the time. Now she worried the woman thought she was a vapid hussy. "I prefer to think I'm articulate and well-mannered," she muttered. "Although I have been referred to as wound-up in the past." Her nose wrinkled. "If you would be so kind, I would like to start over…" Not bothering to wait for an answer, she took a deep breath and then thrust her hand out. "It's nice to meet you, ma'am. My name is Rachel Berry and I'm a fellow show choir enthusiast that attends glee club with Sam… If he happens to be home, I'd be very appreciative if I could speak to him briefly… in a completely non-sexual manner."

Taking her hand, the woman chuckled warmly, throwing her head back. "Dear, you're too young to act so _old_."

Rachel pursed her lips. This just wasn't going her way at all. "I…" She sighed. "I think I'll just call next time."

Shaking her head, the woman drew her in by her hand and closed the door. "I'm sorry… Please, don't be offended. It's just that Sammy doesn't bring friends by very often and you're, well… Not what I was expecting."

"Oh…" Rachel fiddled with the end of her skirt. She wasn't what her peers at school expected either, and they too often laughed at her, but she thought this woman was laughing lightly, even kindly, compared to the cruel way McKinley's students did. "Is-Is Sam home then?" she wondered, looking around the room curiously. It was a little stuffy and she would open a window to let the outside air in, but it was comfortable looking, with pictures and worn furniture that spoke of repeated use. It was nothing like her house where things had an almost sterile appearance; her dads were both hard-working men who accomplished a beautiful home with all of the expensive amenities one could want. She loved her house, but she thought maybe Sam's home was more _lived-in_.

"Yes. I think he's just working on his homework now," she explained, before walking to the banister leading upstairs. "Sammy? You have a visitor!" she shouted up before turning back to Rachel. "Are you thirsty, dear? I have some fresh lemonade if you like."

"Oh, well, yes, that would be very nice." Rachel thrust out the canister of cookies then. "I baked these myself. I suppose it's a little late for a 'welcome to the neighborhood' gift, but this is the first time I've visited and I felt it was only friendly to bring something with me…"

The amusement on the woman's face only brightened further. "Thank you." She took the can from her and walked into the kitchen, nodding her head for Rachel to follow. "Sam will be down soon, I'm sure. Why don't you take a seat and tell me a little about yourself?"

Rachel perked up. Talking about herself was so much easier than anticipating social cues. "Well, I'm one of the team captains of New Directions and I have been since the year before last," she stated proudly, sitting a little straighter. "I'm a straight-A student and I take dance and vocal lessons during my downtime. I plan to become a Broadway star just as soon as I move to New York post graduation." She nodded quickly. "And then I'll be married at twenty-five and hopefully have settled down, with my career no longer at risk of being overshadowed or underappreciated in the wake of a younger talent coming along."

"That's… ambitious."

"Yes," she agreed. Frowning, she realized she had no idea what this woman's name was. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name. That was very rude of me."

Pouring her a tall glass of lemonade with bobbing ice-cubes, she shook her head. "I'm Doris… But most people just call me _Gram_."

"Oh, well, it's very nice to meet you Doris."

She smiled at her, placing a glass down in front of her before taking a seat at the table across from her and nibbling on a sugar cookie. Her eyes widened as she licked her lips of little white crumbs. "These are _delicious!_"

"Thank you. It's my own secret recipe!"

Doris chewed quickly. "Any chance of me prying the secret ingredient out of you?"

Rachel drew her fingers across her lips in a zipping motion, smiling lightly.

"Gram?" Sam called out, his footsteps loud on the stairs. "You say something about a visitor? I didn't know anybody was—" He stopped just as he reached the threshold to the kitchen. "Oh, uh, Rachel…" His brows furrowed in confusion. "_Hey_…"

She smiled, standing and smoothing out her skirt quickly. "Hi… I hope you don't find this uncomfortable." She clasped her hands in front of her. "I just wanted to speak to you about… Um, something personal." She glanced at Doris and then away. "It wasn't something I thought was fit for school hours and I didn't want to ambush you after practice, so I thought I'd take the initiative to see you at home…" When he simply stared at her, she began rambling. "I mean, I didn't want to embarrass you by approaching you in the school halls. I know you've already been wrestling with enough on your plate between glee and football, Santana and Quinn, and I just thought that maybe we could sit down and speak honestly about what's happened… I-I have a therapist, of course, and she encourages interacting with my peers and I thought who better than somebody who could relate to the similar pressures of high school romance gone awry while simultaneously balancing the dramatic and often-times confusing life as a hormonal teenager. But… But I can see I've already overwhelmed you and we haven't even engaged in that conversation so, um, maybe I'll just…" She motioned awkwardly to the door.

"Nonsense!" Doris exclaimed, standing. "I'm sure Sam would _love _to sit down and talk about… er, all of what you just suggested." She raised her brows at the mute boy. "Wouldn't you, Sammy?"

"Um… _Yeah?_" He half-smiled, fidgeting. "So, uh, we could… talk in the living room, if you want… I guess…"

"Oh, well, yes, that would be wonderful," she said, perking up once more. Turning back around, she smiled at Doris. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Evans, and I hope you'll enjoy the sugar cookies."

"Sugar cookies?" Sam asked, eyes widening hopefully.

"Made them herself," Doris said, holding out the canister.

Sam peered down inside at the mounds of cookies, obviously struggling with himself before finally reaching in and grabbing one and then, after a moment's hesitation, grabbing three more. Stuffing two in his mouth, he nodded his head back to the living room. "C'mon."

He sprawled on the loveseat while she sat in an armchair that seemed three times too big for her, making her look even smaller than she was. She folded her hands in her lap and smiled at him as he focused on her cookies.

"These are _awesome!_" he said through a mouthful.

She grinned widely. "I'm glad you think so."

He nodded. "So, uh…" He wiped crumbs from his lap and quirked a brow at her. "How'd you know where I lived?"

"Oh, um…" She blushed under his scrutiny. "White Pages?"

He laughed a little. "Could'a just asked."

"Yes, well… Like I said before, I thought it made more sense for us to speak privately rather than let the school see that you were conversing with me." She pursed her lips. "People don't really like me and I didn't… I didn't want that to rub off on you." She lifted a petite shoulder. "Especially when we hadn't had a chance to speak yet and so you might otherwise be discouraged to do so with me."

"Right, um… So what'd you wanna talk about?"

She took a deep breath. "It's come to my attention recently that we have something in common and since I've been struggling with my own heartache, I thought you too might be doing the same…" She looked up at him earnestly. "So I wanted to offer my shoulder in case you needed it to cry on." She lifted a hand before he could argue. "I will, of course, keep absolutely quiet about anything shared, though. While it might seem that I have a big mouth and therefore can't keep a secret, I think I've proven by my carefully thought out plan for privacy that I don't want to share whatever you might say with anybody else… Just as I would hope you'd appreciate and respect my wish to keep whatever is said between us and not share it with either the glee club or any other friends you might have, be them McKinley students or otherwise."

He stared at her a little slack-jawed. "O…kay… Uh…" He scratched at his temple a little and then frowned. "Well I wasn't really thinking about crying… I mean, what happened with Quinn was pretty lame and Santana wanting Brittney instead of me really sucks, timing wise and all, but…" He shook his head. "I'm not really a crier…"

"That's fine," she reassured. "We can just talk." She leaned forward eagerly. "I was with Finn since late last summer, though we did have a very drama-filled relationship prior to that, but I'm sure Quinn has told you about that…" She waved a hand. "I don't want to pick at old wounds and I'm almost certain I don't want to know how she might have explained that, so… But anyway, Finn and I were happily engaging in a relationship that I had always known would be full of perfection and would one day lead into our inevitable wedding and happily ever after." She blinked at him. "I assume from Quinn's promise ring that you too had similar prospects."

"Oh, uh, yeah…" He grinned before it faltered. "I guess I did… I mean, she was like the first girl I really dated but…" He sighed. "She had really pretty eyes; they were like… my _kryptonite_." He frowned. "Apparently Finn was hers though." His eyes narrowed, lips pursing. "Why do girls even like him? He's such a _jerk!_"

Rachel pursed her lips. "I think we should refrain from pointing fingers and name-calling… It will only lead to us fighting and thus it should be avoided as our woes are best expressed by letting out our feelings about our former significant other, not the blonde hussy that stole him away before I could convince him we were meant to be together forever…" Her brows raised seriously.

Sam rolled his eyes. "If we're gonna talk about how they hurt us, we kinda have to talk about _why _or like _how_ it happened, don't we?" He leaned back in his couch. "I mean, if it wasn't for Finn, me and Quinn would still be together… Just like if Finn didn't lie to you about Santana, you two would still be together…"

She fidgeted. "Well… I mean, I did kiss Noah…" Her shoulders stiffened, expression darkening. "Although at least I was honest and didn't wait five months to tell him of my indiscretion or pretend it didn't happen until it was blatantly thrown in his face by the cruel and devious woman herself…"

"Yeah, that was pretty harsh… I mean, getting back together with Quinn even though she had a boyfriend and he like broke up with you 'cause you kissed somebody else when you guys were sort've _off_…" He shook his head. "Relationships suck."

"They definitely have their moments of complete _suck-dom_."

He cracked a smile. "Is that even a word?"

"Probably not," she admitted.

"Cool."

Her brows furrowed.

"You're so uptight," he said, shrugging. "It's cool when you loosen up and talk normal."

"Oh, well…" She sighed. "I do have troubles with that sometimes. Although, I think it's important to keep a level-head and never changes oneself just to make others more comfortable, so…"

"I'm not saying you should _change_," he told her. "Just loosen up a bit. _Relax!_" He winked at her. "I won't bite."

She half-smiled. "I would hope not, there are others present and I'm afraid she wrongly assumed I was here to engage in intimate acts as soon as she met me, so that would only add fuel to the fire."

He laughed. "She was probably just bugging you… Grams likes to catch people off-guard."

"So she's your grandmother then?" she queried, brows raised. "I wasn't sure and I didn't want to make assumptions."

"Yeah." He nodded. "She's been raising me since my mom took off." He sat up, sighing. "She's cool."

"That's nice." Uncertain how to proceed, Rachel looked away and played with the end of her skirt. "Did she ever meet Quinn?"

"Hm?" Distracted, he looked up at her. "Oh, uh, no… I don't really…" He shrugged. "Me and Quinn mostly hung out at her place, her mom wasn't home very often, so…"

"That makes sense," she agreed, nodding. "Finn only came over when he was sure my dads were away…" She glanced at the kitchen. "Doris seems very nice though."

"She is." He rubbed his hands on his thighs. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." She sat forward, waiting.

"Why… I mean…" He sighed. "What makes Finn so special? Like… Why'd you put so much energy into getting him? Why do you _still _want him?"

"Well…" She took a deep breath. "He… He was the first boy to like me despite everything… Despite the fact that I wasn't like the others or even him… Despite my flaws and my overbearing personality or how I'm very loud and I tend to ramble and I talk about Broadway perhaps more than any teenage boy ever wants to hear…" She shook her head. "He was the first boy to really see _me _when everyone else just saw somebody to throw a slushee at."

Sam nodded, his brows furrowed. "Okay, but… I mean, shouldn't he love those things about you and not like _despite_ them?" He quirked his head. "'Cause I know you say he loved you and that he saw you when nobody else did, but don't you think he should've been _proud _of you and how different you are? And not try to like _change _that about you?"

"He wasn't _changing _me," she argued, frowning. "He was just suggesting that maybe if I wasn't _so _loud that others might like me more… You have to admit, I wasn't the easiest person to date. I mean, Finn comes from a world where he was once on top of the food chain and now he's stuck with us bottom dwellers and he's dating the queen of freaks… or he _was_ because he got back together with the very perfect Quinn and I don't see that ending any time soon, at least not without another unwarranted pregnancy…" She twisted her fingers. "And I'm not sure you can really point fingers, since I seem to remember you were a boy who quoted Dr. Seuss and who loved Avatar before Quinn told you that those qualities were not admired in a star quarterback…" She raised a brow. "I've noticed those have been absent since you became _Mr. _Quinn Fabray."

Sam frowned, eyes darting away. "I was new and I wanted to fit in and it was the first time a girl really paid attention to me… I just wanted to be cool, Rachel… 'Cause not being cool really sucks."

Her anger melted. "Yes… It does."

He shrugged. "Now I'm just a second-string quarterback with two ex-girlfriends, one I'm pretty sure people think I turned gay, and a love for show choir that pretty much guarantees I'll be the loser I was trying really hard not to be."

She frowned. "I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but it does get easier, Sam. Maybe not during high school. You might not find acceptance until you've moved on…" Her eyes brightened. "Do you have any plans for post-high school? As I'm sure you already know, I'll be taking New York by storm…" She raised her brows at him. "What is your passion, Sam? Besides music, of course."

He smiled uncertainly. "Uh, well… I like Avatar, but you know that… And sci-fi movies are cool…" He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting down. "And I can draw pretty good—"

"Well," she interrupted.

"Yeah, well…" He nodded. "I've got… Or I started… Like I have this idea for a, uh, graphic novel…" He looked up at her, eyes wide and a little worried, like he thought she might lash out and tell him it was a stupid.

"Those are like comic books, right?" she wondered, brows furrowed. "Like Superman or something similar?"

"Yeah, except more modern and like really cool…" He brightened. "I could show you, y'know, if you want…"

"Sure!" she agreed. "I think that would be a splendid idea." She stood. "I have to admit, however, that while I've done a great deal of reading and I've taken art in school, I cannot honestly call myself a connoisseur of this variety of book or artistry, so I'm not sure how my opinion might benefit you."

"It's cool," he assured, standing up and making his way to the stairs. "Just, like, don't tell me it's stupid and we're good." He turned away bashfully, but stopped when her hand touched his arm.

She squeezed to encourage him to look at her before she stated with authority, "Regardless of popular opinion or my lack of knowledge on graphic novels, I want you to know that whatever your passion is, I see no reason to mock it!" She shook her head. "I can't tell you how many people have called my love of Broadway or my dreams of one day becoming a star completely unrealistic or stupid…" She frowned. "Actually, I could. It's the entirety of McKinley. But that's beside the point." She lifted her chin to stare at him seriously. "What one person may have a passion for is theirs alone and it shouldn't matter if anybody else agrees or not. If you love comic books or drawing, then good for you, Sam Evans!" She nodded, as if to make it so.

He grinned at her. "Thanks Rachel…" He looked back at the stairs. "So, it's just up in my room… I've got like a desk and everything and this special light and stuff so I don't make too many mistakes." He jogged up the stairs with Rachel at his heels.

"Do you have a large collection of these books?" she wondered. "I have a very large musical selection. Perhaps we can exchange them, if you're interested."

"You'd read a comic book for me?" he asked, tipping his head.

"Sure," she agreed. "If we're going to be spending time together to mutually get past our similar heartbreak in the form of Finn and Quinn, then it only makes sense that we exchange common interests so to easier create a bond between us that will eventually bloom into an easy friendship… That way we'll feel more comfortable sharing our feelings with each other." She nodded proudly. "I think that makes perfect sense, don't you?"

"Sure." He shrugged. "I watched Mary Poppins when I was a kid… I tried to take sugar with my medicine but my grams said I'd just be sick _and_ have a lot of cavities …"

She chuckled. "I can't argue with her logic."

"Yeah, she's pretty smart."

"She raised a very intelligent grandson too, by all accounts."

He flushed, stuffing his hands in his jeans. "My report cards say different." He walked into his bedroom, holding the door open wider for her.

"You know, Sam… It's not always education that makes a person smart. It's how they treat others and who they are as people," she told him, peering around his room. "I'm not surprised you have a lot of sports memorabilia." She quirked a brow at him. "Were you apart of many sports teams at your old school?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I played football and lacrosse… I used to play soccer too but then I didn't really have time for much else, so…"

"Yes, I often find I have the same problem," she agreed. "With all of my acting, vocal and dancing lessons and then glee on top of it, I rarely get any time to just relax by myself." She sighed. "Of course, when I began dating Finn I had to put a stop to some activities so that we could go out on dates… I have a very rigorous schedule and demands have been high since our break-up." She smiled, lifting her chin. "But I only have to remind myself that eventually it will all pay off and my lack of social life and friendships are just the cost it takes to become a Broadway legend in the making."

Sam took a seat at his desk, leaning back in his chair. "Well, when you took time off to date Finn, were you giving up your dream?"

"Oh no!" Her brows knotted, expression adamant. "No, I just had fewer lessons or I relegated them only to the weekends so I had my weekdays open if Finn wanted to go out."

He nodded, playing with one of his pencils, wiggling it back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. "So couldn't you just do that _and _have friends?"

Her lips pursed. "I suppose… I've never really had many friends to begin with. I mean, I have Mercedes and Kurt and even sort of Blaine now too… And I do try to spend time with them after school, before practice, of course."

"There's gotta be balance, right?" He shrugged. "I mean, I've got football and glee but I still make time to work on my novel…" He smiled then, waving her over to see. He turned the light above the desk on and smoothed it open to the most recent page, where the outline was drawn but no colors had been added. "I'm like halfway done, but it takes a lot of time, so…"

Rachel leaned in close, resting a hand on his shoulder and the other on the edge of the desk as she peered at the intricate and smooth pencil drawing before her. "Oh Sam… You're very talented," she praised.

"You think?" he worried, insecurity filling his voice.

"Definitely," she cheered. "Like I've said, I'm not much of a drawer myself, but that I can actually see the tiny details says a lot, I think. It's the finer details that always makes something stand out." She smiled over at him. "Like when I'm singing a song, I have to work on it until I have every word, every pitch absolutely right, until I'm sure with every fiber of myself that I couldn't do it any better…" She turned to look back down at his drawing. "This is magnificent."

His shoulder seemed to broaden there beneath her hand with pride. "I don't really show these to a lot of people, so it's wicked that you think it's good."

Her eyes caught his seriously, her face dramatically full. "Not just good, Sam. You have to have pride in yourself and what you're doing and _know _that it's worth it and worth pursuing, _that _is how dreams come true."

He half-smiled at her. "You're passion's kinda scary… but also really cool."

She straightened, fiddling with her skirt. "I don't think the word 'cool' has been used in regards to be so often or so honestly…" She smiled sheepishly. "It's very nice of you to say so."

He shrugged before reaching up and turning off the desk light. "Hey, I'll show you those other novels I have and you can pick one and then you can give me one of your movies, right?"

"Yes!"

He crossed to a bookshelf and began leafing through various thick and thin novels, some of which were covered in a filmy plastic wrap while others were worn down the cracks with constant use. "I've got a few of my favorites I think you'll like… They're pretty tame…" He flushed when he glanced at her. "Some of the others kind of put the _graphic _in graphic novel."

She smiled slowly. "I'm sure you won't offend my delicate sensibilities…"

He laughed under his breath. "Well, let's start you off with these and see what you like, okay?"

She took the two from his outstretched hand and nodded. "Wonderful. And I will drop off the movies tomorrow afternoon. I think I have enough time after glee and before my dance class…" She tapped her chin thoughtfully, trying to rearrange the times in her head.

He shook his head. "You can just give them to me at school."

Her lips pursed. "While I find your offer commendable, as I've said previously, I wouldn't want to tarnish your status anymore by associating with you in public."

He smiled earnestly at her. "Rach… I'm not Finn… I'm not worried about what the guys are gonna say just 'cause I'm friends with you."

Her heart fluttered a little. "So then… we're friends now?" she asked, biting her lip so not to sound too hopeful.

"Sure… I mean, you know all about my geek dreams and we're hanging out after school, so… Yeah." He nodded happily. "You're kinda like my only friend, really… I mean, I tried to be friends with Artie, but he got weirded out when I said it'd be cool if we were as close as Brittany and Santana…" He frowned. "I didn't get that until I realized Santana and Brittany hooked up sometimes and then…" His eyes widened awkwardly. "I mean, being gay's cool, but, like… maybe he thought I was into him or something and, well, I'm not."

She chuckled. "I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding… Although it is too bad you haven't had much time to bond with the other boys in glee… perhaps that's something we can rectify in future."

"Naw, that's cool… I mean, I got you now, right? So…"

Her lips widened in a smile. "I feel very special that you think so highly of our new friendship."

"Yeah…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "So, uh, you wanna stay for dinner or something?"

She checked the time to be sure and then shrugged. "Sure… It's Tuesday and my dads usually work late, so I tend to make dinner for one anyway…" Her expression widened as she lifted her hands. "Unless of course Doris wasn't expecting company and then I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"No, it's okay… Grams usually makes more anyway. She thinks I don't eat enough."

Nodding, Rachel wondered, "Do you?"

His brows furrowed.

"I just mean that you're very fit and I'm sure you've worked very hard for your perfect physique, but you said yourself that you have a lot of after-school commitments, so sometimes eating habits are overlooked." Arms tucked behind her back, she admitted, "I've often forgotten meals when I've become so absorbed in my lessons that the time seems to fly by. It's not a rare occurrence that my dads have to come and draw me out of my room because I've lost track of time and dinner's been waiting." She smiled encouragingly. "I have a watch now that beeps whenever it's time to eat as a schedule is very important. If you want, I can give you the name of the vendor and you can get one too."

He grinned. "Sure."

"Would you like to let Doris know that I'll be staying for dinner? I really don't want to get in the way of what might be a family dinner."

He crossed the room and called downstairs, "Hey grams, can Rachel stay for dinner?"

Rachel stared on at him, still a little surprised at his actions. Shouting wasn't the usual way of conversing in her house.

"I've already set an extra place at the table… I'd be offended if she didn't," Doris replied.

"See," Sam said, smiling back at her. "We're set."

"That's very nice of her…" She stepped out the door and cleared her throat, calling out awkwardly, "Thank you very much, Doris."

"I hope you like tofu, dear, it's all Sammy will eat…"

Her expression brightened. "I'm a _vegan_, actually. So that's a fine meal choice!"

"You're a vegan?" he asked, smiling. "Cool."

"Yes. I happen to think the slaughtering of animals is absolutely deplorable!" she decreed.

"Yeah… and there's so much chemicals in meat… Like, that _can't _be good for your body." His brows rose high.

"Exactly."

They grinned at each other and Rachel couldn't help herself before saying, "Sam… I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

He smiled lopsidedly. "Totally."

So, maybe it wasn't the vernacular of _Casablanca_, but it certainly fit. She couldn't be sure where they were headed, but she did know that it wouldn't just be heartache that brought them together. If the warmth in her chest and the wide honesty of his smile was anything to go by, she was certain that they were going to defy odds and create a wonderful bond that nobody expected or understood. She couldn't wait to see where it led them.

[**End**.]


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